"There's been a murder."
"Lor! You don't tell me so."
"Yes. An old gentleman has been killed----"
"And the murderer is shut in a bedroom upstairs," finished Pope with a leer.
"He is not the murderer," said the girl indignantly, and turning a shade paler. "I don't know who killed Sir Simon Tedder, but I am quite sure that Mr. Herries didn't."
"Sir Simon Tedder," said Kind, dropping the pot of beer from his mouth. "The millionaire cove? Is he a deader?"
"His throat has been cut," said Pope, eagerly.
"Not by Mr. Herries," retorted Elspeth.
"Lor!" said Kind again, "Why, I've got some of his jam stuff, with the name on the tins. Here's a go. I could do a bit of business on this here," he went on, his lip trembling, "folk always crowd to places where a murder's been committed. But I've Rachel to think of. Come, Elspeth," he ended entreatingly, "come to the missus, and lemme go for the doctor."
"A doctor will be here soon from Tarhaven to examine the body," said Pope filling another pewter.